


Eyes and Hourglasses

by tranimation



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:22:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2271288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tranimation/pseuds/tranimation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wall-eyed mail-mare from Cloudsdale befriends Ponyville's newest residence, an eccentric clockmaker and inventor from Lonmane, and is taken by surprise when a simple friendship ultimately transforms into a not-so-simple romance. Canonical (Generation Four): Friendship/Romance: On-going. Rated K for unadulterated cuteness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mail Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess, unabashedly, that I am a Pegasister and I adore _My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic_! It's really one of the best and smartest animated shows to come out in a very, very long time. I really can't say which pony is my favourite, but Derpy Hooves (or Ditzy Doo) — a blond-haired grey pegasus with googly eyes and bubbles as her cutie mark — and Doctor Whooves (or Time Turner) — a brown pony with spiky chocolate hair and an hourglass as his cutie mark — would certainly be in the top, uh, ten at the least and I was floored to learn that they both acquired a mass fan following.
> 
> However, the reason why this pastiche came about is because I came to be increasingly _dissatisfied_ by the way the characters were portrayed primarily by fans: Derpy is usually portrayed as moronic. The slang term "derp" means "odd" or "silly," not "stupid" or "idiotic." Just because she has a physical disability doesn't automatically make her "retarded" in any manner. I see her as being wired differently, similar to the way Pinkie Pie is. Pinkie Pie isn't stupid, just a little unusual. (Honestly, what are you trying to teach kids?) Fans, in turn, generally make Whooves into a ponified Time Lord — that's complete nonsense! Making him a regenerating, space-travelling, time-travelling alien who drives a flying phone-booth in this universe (where magic, fantasy, sonic rain-booms, and talking animals are possible, mind you) comes off as unnatural to me and defies the "logic" established in the show. Instead, I always saw him as a kooky inventor. The flying contraptios, for example, used by Pinkie Pie and Tank the Tortoise had to come from somepony. Yes, I'll make Whovian references (because I'm a classic series fan, not the new one) only as a gag, but he's more "Doc Brown" than "Doctor Who" in my head. Despite everything said above, I do enjoy the idea of them as a couple, probably more than I should.
> 
> For those who don't know, K-9 was a loveable robo-pet of Doctor Who's originally introduced during the Tom Baker run. Rather than being a 51st-century machine from the another planet, this K-9 is the invention of Doctor Whooves who will make more appearances as the story goes on. Screw the regenerated piece of crap from the new series! Classic K-9 forever!
> 
> This story will be a collection of little snapshots into the Derpy-Doctor relationship, taking place a week after he moves into Ponyville, a few years before the main events of the series. They may not be published any specific chronological order, but I will organize them as such when need be.
> 
> Synopsis: The wall-eyed mail-mare from Cloudsdale befriends Ponyville's newest residence, an eccentric clockmaker and inventor from Lonmane, and is taken by surprise when a simple friendship ultimately transforms into a not-so-simple romance. Canonical (Generation Four): Friendship/Romance: On-going. Rated K for unadulterated cuteness.
> 
>  _My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic_ © Hasbro

Derpy Hooves was Ponyville's neighbourhood mail-mare. When she was first hired for this job, there was a great deal sniggering all over Cloudsdale for hiring the ridiculous, little cross-eyed pegasus. Luckily for her, looks can be deceiving and, in time, she became the best mail-mare that Ponyville ever had.

Letter by letter, parcel by parcel, she would work her way from one end of town to the other, zipping from house to house, building by building, slipping envelopes into each mail-box and each mail-slot, and waving to each pony she passed by. Through rain, wind, or shine, she was there every morning without fail and one thing she always prided herself on was never being late and, today, she was ahead of schedule. If she kept this up, she might treat herself with muffins at Sugarcube Corner — a _dozen_ , perhaps!

Maybe chocolate? Oh, or raisins!

She shook her head, which jingled like a cowbell between her ears, in order to cast the distractions out of her mind. She needed to focus on her work first.

She picked out the last letter from her bag and re-read the name and address. She was looking forward to delivering this one all day. Derpy heard in passing about the new pony in town and a new stallion was always news for the mares. He had moved into the antiquated, dilapidated Old Clock Tower isolated at the far end of Ponyville. Erected back during the town's foundation, it was perhaps the oldest standing building around — and this was his first letter.

She somersaulted effortlessly in the air and landed on her four hooves before the house. That's strange. Where was the mail-box? Her amber eyes spun around in confusion until she noticed a big crater in the grass where the wood post of the mail-box once stood. When she cantered to the front door, there was no mail-slot either.

How silly. How was he ever going to his letters this way?

As the routine for larger deliveries, Derpy banged her head on the door and waited. She wasn't going to leave it out on the porch for the wind to blow it away. "Letter for Mr. Doctor Whooves," she called cheerfully and banged her head upon the wood again.

The door opened and the  _strangest_  thing she ever saw came out...

A little metal box resembling something like the shape of a dog rolled out in front of the door, whirling its radar-dish ears, as the red screen of its eyes blinked at her and its antennae-like tail moved from side to side, with a plaid collar around its hose-like neck and the word "K-9" scrawled upon its flank.

Derpy's mouth was agape at the thing. The letter she held between her teeth fell on the doormat at the sight of this — this — whatchamahoozit! Yeah, that was the only word she could think of to describe it!

"Greetings and salutations," it heralded in a monotone, mechanical voice.

The pegasus' eyes widened and she responded to it the best way she could:

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Screeching at the top of her lungs, she bulleted up into the air as fast as her wings could carry her, tunnelling holes through the clouds above.

"What was that awful noise, K-9?" questioned a brown-coated pony from inside the house and glanced outside in investigation.

"Insignificant data to form a reply," beeped the robotic dog. "But the post has arrived, Master."

"Oh, brilliant! My first letter! I guess they didn't forget about me after all. And you were worried, ha!" The stallion joyously took the letter from the ground between his teeth and trotted back inside, shutting the door behind him.


	2. The Welcome Wagon Comes to Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the premiere of the episode "The Last Roundup," the character of "Derpy" is now official and I was extremely happy to see her have an "official" introduction. However, controversy over her "portrayal" has become a hot topic. I personally sick of all this "political correctness" nonsense. I genuinely hope she remains the same, unchanged, and continues to make more (talking) appearances in the series well into the future.
> 
> I sincerely want to apologize to my international readers by abjectly forcing you to read my preposterous word usage in this pastiche, but you can find each and every one of those words in a slang dictionary, urban dictionary, or three. Still, I'm neither a songwriter nor a poetess and the featured song "Welcome to Ponyville Party" was difficult but fun to write: I hear it as this hyperactive, circus-like ditty that is an all-too-obvious tribute to series composer-songwriter Daniel Ingram's "Pinkie Pie's Gala Fantasy Song" and "The Ticket Song." I don't ever want to make another song again, but there's a fairly good chance of it in later chapters — great for you, unfortunate for me. I wrote this before "The Welcome Song" for Cranky Doodle Donkey and could have thrown out this song for the official Pinkie Pie "welcome," but I think it's better if I did something different.

For the first time in her mail-mare career, the pegasus named Derpy Hooves was late in a delivery. That delivery consisted of one single, solitary letter to be dropped off at the very last residence of her rounds, Ponyville's Old Clock Tower. When she arrived at the building, she was, of course, as punctual as ever, but the mail-box was still missing from the lawn and she didn't have the courage to knock on the door again.

Dressed in her saddlebags, pacing back and forth, she was at a loss of what to do at the moment, so she paced some more. If she left it on the doorstep, the wind could blow it away. If she slipped it underneath the doormat, it might not be seen. Then a thought came to her, perhaps she could squeeze the letter between the cracks of the door.

Placing the letter between her teeth, she attempted to do just that, but the paper began to crumple. With a frustrated snort, she tried again and her hoof tapped on the door, which opened a half-second afterward, revealing the new stallion everypony in Ponyville was talking about and Derpy froze in her tracks.

"Good morning," muffled the pony cheerfully in a greeting with an indescribable tool between his teeth.

Glancing up and down at him, the mail-mare cautiously moved her head to stare over his shoulder, which made him raise a befuddled eyebrow at her. Looking behind himself, seeing nothing out of place, he took the tool from his mouth and finally spoke again:

"Um, is not a good morning?"

Glad not to see that weird, little tin whatchamacallit answer her call, she opened her mouth to speak, but a pony with a mess of rosy, cotton-candy curls nested upon head to tail and a trio of balloons upon her flank zipped seemingly out of nowhere, forcing the mail-mare to face-plant herself upon the wooden panels of the floor.

"It's-time-to-parrrrrrrrrrrrrttttaay!" shouted the pink one in a high, happy squeal. "C'mon, everypony!"

With that, a cheering circus of ponies of all different shapes and colours whom he's never seen before in his life galloped through his front door, trampling over the poor pegasus, unpacking their decorations of streamers and confetti and their wagon-loads of cakes and confectioneries into his home. But before the stallion could open this mouth to object at the sudden intrusion, the ringleader began to sing:

 _THERE'S A REALLY BIG PARTY AT YOUR PLACE THIS DAY, TODAY,_  
 _WE ALL WANTED TO SAY YOU'RE WELCOME HERE, HURRAY, HURRAY,_  
 _TO PONYVILLE, THE WONDEROUS PLACE TO BE, WHOOPEE,_  
 _TO CELEBRATE WITH THE FABTACULASTIC, FANTABULERRIFIC,_  
 _SPECTANFLANDIFFERENDOUS, SPLENDITOOTISIMONIOUS,_  
 _COOLEST, NEWEST, BESTERIESTEST LITTLE PONNNNNNNNNNYY-YYYY-YYYYYYY—!_ 


"I beg your pardon, but—," Doctor Whooves attempted to interrupt when her jovial song ended.

"Sure-thing, but-you-didn't-have-to-beg-my-pardon-or-anything," the hyperactive mare bounced toward him, as she forced her pink face closer and gawked at him through a pair of her wild, bulging eyes. Each syllable she spoke jumbled together with the next, somehow shrinking her sentences into long, broad words. "All-you-had-to-do-was-ask. I-can't-believe-you've-been-here-a-week! You-must-have-been-hiding-this-entire-time-because-I've-never-seen-you-before! In-fact, no-pony-has-ever-seen-you-and-I-know-everypony-in-Ponyville-and-I-mean-everypony! I'm-Pinkie-Pie-and-I-threw-this-surprise-welcome-party-just-for-you, so-we-could-meet-you-and-you-could-meet-us-since-you're-gonna-be-our-new-neighbour-and-all! Were-you-surprised? Were-ya? Were-ya, huh-huh-huh-huh?"

"Well, umm," he flatted his brown ears bashfully and slowly attempted to step back.

"I-know-it's-great, isn't-it? I'm-so-excited! Are-you-excited? I-invited-everypony-in-town-to-see-you! There's-Lyra-Heartstrings-and-Rainbow-Dash-and-Fluttershy-and-Bon-Bon-and-Carrot-Top-and-Golden-Harvest-and-Colgate-and-Derpy—oh!" Pinkie Pie abruptly halted in mid-sentence with a befuddled blink, seeing her little pegasus friend lying flat on the ground, and quirked her head at her, "Derpy, whacha-doin'-on-the-floor? Never-seen-anypony-cut-a-rug-that-way-before-and-I've-seen-a-lot-of-rug-cutting, a-lot."

Looking up with her wall eyes and wearing a light blush, the little mail-mare rose herself where she laid, dusted the hoof-prints off her grey coat, and unpeeled the trampled envelope off the floor. She searched the room. "Oh, no! Where'd he go?"

"Where-did-who-go?"

"Mister Doctor Whooves."

"Who's-that? Do-I-know-him?"

"He's the pony you're throwing this party for."

"Oh, yeah! I-guess-I-am! I-didn't-even-know-his-name! In-all-this-excitement-to-get-the-party-ready, I-guess-I-forgot-to-ask-who-I'm-throwing-the-party-for!" The hyperactive pony gasped over-dramatically, sounding not unlike a noisemaker, when a thought rushed into her head, "That-means-I'll-have-to-throw-him-a-'get-to-know-you'-party, too! Ooh-ooh, this-is-gonna-be-so-much-fuunnn!"

Disappointed, Derpy gave a flustered sigh and questioned her again, "But did you see where he went?"

"He-probably-went-upstairs-to-change-into-a-party-hat," grinned the pink pony, as she bounded off with an audible boing. "Okey-dokey-lokey, enjoy-the-paaarrty!"

Leaving Pinkie Pie to her hostess talents, the pegasus pushed through the dancing crowd of ponies and ventured upstairs.


	3. Making Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "Making Friends" song, done in a folk tune, is actually composed by teacher-singer-songwriter Rachel Rambach, not by me. This is a basic step-by-step of how to make friends and why they're important, emphasizing the importance of "being yourself" because people, both children and adults, try to change certain aspects of themselves — be it their behaviour, appearance, mannerisms, etc — in order to fit in or befriend someone. Self-esteem is a value that should be encouraged at any given opportunity and this is just another one of those opportunities. I originally intended to change this song up and to add own lyrics, but it's such a beautiful song with such a beautiful meaning — and it's so freakin' catchy, too — that I didn't have the heart to butcher it. I used the extended song from ListenLearnMusic.c0m for the most part, but the (softer) ending is more like the shorter version from youtudotbe/ERCLq_bdSqc. (Please note that I never did a "song fic" format before, so I hope this turned out legibly.)
> 
> After the "Welcome to Ponyville Party" song from the previous chapter, I think I should talk about my personal take on the songs of Pinkie Pie and Derpy Hooves. Pinkie differentiates herself from the rest of the ponies in the series, due to Daniel Ingram's incomparable talent, with songs that are fast-paced, highly energetic, and with tongue-twistingly extravagant lyrics. For Derpy Hooves, however, I genuinely felt that she should have songs as equally cute and silly, but the lyrics should be far more simplistic, much like a nursery rhyme, giving a sweet, child-like quality to the character.

As the festivities continued uninterrupted below, the winged pony ascended the stairwell and went through each room of the building, floor by floor — kitchen, bedroom, library, stockroom, and  _whooooaaaaaa!_  She reached the top floor and her wall-eyes gazed around the sight of massive room that amassed a labyrinthine jungle of the rusted cogs and jagged gears of the Old Clock Tower. The patchwork of holes left in the broken roof allowed glowing beams of sunlight to stream into the room, as a flock of white pigeons fluttered out. The walls hung with hundreds of clocks, clocks of all kinds, all different shapes and sizes, ticking and tocking in all different ways. Positioned below them were rows of long worktables. Half-working and half-finished mechanics and machines were scattered upon the tabletops among the various tools and knick-knacks of springs, spokes, screws, coggles, and wheels.

She stood in curious awe of the room until:

"Negative, negative, negative! No entry, no entry!" rolled in the mechanized contraption speedily towards her, causing her to bolt upward in flight with a yelp and dropping the letter yet again, as she hid in-between the clockworks upon the ceiling. "I am K-9 and I am warning you! I do have defensive capabilities. Retreat! Retreat!"

"I wasn't doing anything wrong!" the grey pegasus shivered in fear of the strange automation. "Go away! Go awaaay!"

"Negative: It is you who should retreat!"

"Heeeelllpp! Somepony, help! I'm being attacked by a crazy mechanical whatchamadoodle!"

"What in all of Equestria is going on here?" A brown stallion, the master of the house, entered into the room to investigate the ruckus. When he looked up to see a mare he's never seen before cornered up in the ceiling by his invention, he rushed in front of the machine and berated it, "Heel, K-9!"

The metallurgic dog spun its radar-dish ears and relaxed its antennae-like tail, complying monotonically: "Heeled, Master."

"Sorry about that," he called to her in a guilty tone, glancing over his shoulder with flattened ears. "I forgot that his security protocols and alert systems were still activated."

"Does that mean it's safe to come down?" hollered the pegasus from her hiding place.

Glancing down at K-9 who gave a low growl, which only he could hear, the creator questioned his creation as one would an actual pet: "Are you going to behave yourself, K-9?"

"Affirmative," it responded matter-of-factly.

"Are you going to be a good dog?"

"Affirmative."

The mare fluttered down, keeping the stallion between herself and his mechanical contraption when she landed, and peeked cautiously over his shoulder. "So, is it alive?"

"Technically, no," the inventor betrayed a half-frown, then patted the robotic creature's back with his hoof reassuringly, which sounded as though he kicked over an empty trashcan. "But K-9 certainly has a mind of his own. Don't you, K-9?"

"Affirmative."

The mail-mare raised a bewildered eyebrow at the inventor. "Wait, you... _built_  your own friend?"

He blinked at her, not entirely certain how to respond. The question seemed almost pitying. "Well, I—I suppose I did."

"You don't have any friends at all?"

"I have...friends."

"Entreat, Master," interrupted K-9 with a whirl and a beep. "The Master has no such companions other than myself."

"That's awful!" she exclaimed, terrified at the revelation. "Everypony should have friends! Why don't you come downstairs and meet your guests?"

Lowering his head, he turned with his tail between his legs and began to hesitantly slink off. "I didn't invite them. You can let yourself out, can you not?"

The mail-mare leaped in front of him, practically  _demanding_  his undivided attention. Suddenly, she began to twinkle her little hooves and swish her blond mane to-and-fro, as she danced and spun in the air to the music heard from the other room. The inventor blinked at her in confusion.

"Oh, no," his ears flatted at the realization of what was going to come, "please, not another song..."

Heeding little attention, she opened her mouth and sang cheerfully:

 _STEP ONE: WEAR A SMILE_  
 _STEP TWO: SAY HELLO_  
 _STEP THREE: INTRODUCE YOURSELF_  
 _TO SOMEONE YOU WANNA GET TO KNOW_  
 _STEP FOUR: HAVE A CONVERSATION_  
 _ASK A QUESTION OR TWO_  
 _MAKING FRIENDS CAN BE SO SIMPLE_  
 _ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS JUST BE YOU_

_YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS TO MAKE YOU LAUGH_  
 _HELP YOU FEEL BETTER WHEN YOU ARE SAD_  
 _YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS TO MAKE YOU SMILE_  
 _HELP YOU FEEL CALM WHEN YOU ARE MAD_  
 _YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS, SO DON'T BE SHY_  
 _GO OUT AND GIVE IT A TRY_  
 _ANYONE WOULD BE LUCKY, OOO-OOO,_  
 _TO HAVE A FRIEND LIKE YOOOU!_




"C'mon," she pranced happily around him, "it will be fun, I promise."

His knees knocked nervously and his hooves scrapped against the flooring, but her head pushed against his rear to urge him forward. "I really don't think this is a good idea," he whined, descending the individual steps with each forceful push. "What if they don't like me?"

"They'll like you. I already like you and we just met."

"Really? Does that mean we're friends now?"

"I guess it does."

"Oh, well," it came as a bit of a shock to him, "that was relatively easy."

"See? I've been to Canterlot and Cloudsdale, but Ponyville is the friendliest place I've ever been. The ponies here are so nice. You'll make plenty of friends if you just tried."

"But I wasn't even trying—."

"Even better!"

They made it down the last step. He gulped at the sight of so many ponies, chattering, eating, drinking, dancing, and laughing amongst themselves, which made him feel all the more alone. He wasn't much of a socializer. As a foal, he was always preoccupied with his studies and, as a stallion, he was always preoccupied with his work. His work was intricate and required concentration and a steady hoof, no distractions; therefore socialization just came off as rather pointless. He had grown used to being alone and he came to Ponyville to free himself from the hustle and bustle of Lonmane, but obviously the ponies of here had different plans for him — or, at least, one particular pony did.

"I don't think I can do this..."

"Don't worry so much. I'll be right here with you."

 _STEP ONE: WEAR A SMIILLE_ 


She grinned the most absurd, most generous, and most infectious of grins at him. Tilting his head inquisitively, the corners of his mouth twitched and could not help but curve upwardly in response.

 _STEP TWO: SAY HELLOOO_ 


"Halloa."

"Halloa?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

"But what does that mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"Halloa?"

"I just said that."

"Nevermind. Let's start over."

 _STEP THREE: INTRODUCE YOURSELF_  
TO SOMEONE YOU WANNA GET TO KNOOOW  



"I am Doctor Whooves," he greeted with a courtly but timid nod.

"I'm Derpy Hooves," she grabbed his hoof and shook it vigourously, causing him to nearly fall forward, "please to meet ya!"

"Um, likewise."

 _STEP FOUR: HAVE A CONVERSATION  
ASK A QUESTION OR TWOOO_ 


He thought for a moment. "How do you do? Enjoying the party?"

 _MAKING FRIENDS CAN BE SO SIMPLE  
ALL YOU HAVE TO DOOO IS JUST BE YOOOU!_ 


"Oh, you're good!" complimented the pegasus merrily. "Now, try it with the others!"

"Try what with whom now—?"

But before he could object, the pegasus flew up and addressed the entire crowd of party-goers: "Hey, everypony, this is Mister Doctor Whooves, the newest pony in Ponyville!"

 _YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS TO MAKE YOU LAUGH_   
_HELP YOU FEEL BETTER WHEN YOU ARE SAD_   
_YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS TO MAKE YOU SMILE_   
_HELP YOU FEEL CALM WHEN YOU ARE MAD_   
_YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS, SO DON'T BE SHY_   
_GO OUT AND GIVE IT A TRY_   



The crowd gathered and surrounded him at all sides. They greeted him politely, as each introduced themselves by shaking his hoof, or asking questions about himself. There were so many of them that he could not possibly remember all their names. They were so innately curious about him.

_ANYONE WOULD BE LUCKY, OOO-OOO,  
TO HAVE A FRIEND LIKE YOOOOOOOU!_ 


"They brought me gifts?" Whooves' blue eyes studied the colourfully wrapped boxes topped with giant bows stacked upon the table. "I've never received gifts from strangers before."

"That's what's great about Ponyville," smiled Derpy beside him. "Everypony knows everypony in Ponyville, so no pony is a stranger here."

"I... _like_  that."

"Me, too."

_OOOOOO-OOO_  
 _YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS_  
 _OOOOOO-OOO_  
 _YOU GOTTA HAVE FRIENDS_  
 _OOOOOO-OOO_  
 _YOU GOTTA HAVE—_ 


Hours passed as though they were minutes. Day moved into night into morning again. The party had ended, they didn't know exactly when, and the room told the tale of the carnage that ensued just hours before. The floor was littered with a flurry of wilted confetti and withered streamers. The fairy-lights were half-strung up, the ribbons half-torn, the balloons half-deflated, the food half-eaten, the drinks half-filled, and the candles half-snuffed out. The victrola that once filled the air with music and melody was now silent and was replaced with the soft lullaby of nightly crickets and morning songbirds.

_FRIENDS_   
_TO MAKE YOU LAUGH_   
_HELP YOU FEEL BETTER_   
_WHEN YOU ARE SAD_   
_YOU GOTTA HAVE_   
___FRIENDS_   
_TO MAKE YOU SMILE_   
_HELP YOU FEEL CALM_   
_WHEN YOU ARE MAD_   
_YOU GOTTA HAVE_   
_FRIENDS_   
_SO DON'T BE SHY_   
_GO OUT AND GIVE IT A TRY_   
_ANYONE WOULD BE LUCKY_   
_OOO-OOO-OOO-OOOOOO_   



Only two party-goers remained behind in the mess. The brown stallion slumbered upon the sofa, his head against perched against the arm, dreaming of equations and formulae. The grey pegasus, on the other hoof, laid face down in a pillow of cake and frosting, dreaming of dancing muffins.

_TO HAVE A FRIENNDDD  
JUST LIKE YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOU—!_ 



End file.
